Holding On
by Pareathe
Summary: Revised and re-uploaded Set on New Year's Eve in the Mirai timeline. When everything seems hopeless, Gohan and Bulma find strength and comfort in the only safe haven they have left: each other.


A/N: This was originally a holiday songfic for the momslovedbztoo group. Now I offer it as a fuzzy little one-shot, set in the Mirai timeline and featuring - gasp - Gohan and Bulma. Yeah, I love my odd couples, and honestly, Mirais Gohan and Bulma are so underrepresented, especially since that's a pairing that makes sense. For those who've read it before, this version's been tweaked. Little typos have been fixed, the song lyrics which were sprinkled throughout have now been grouped together so they won't interrupt the flow of the narrative so much, etc. Old and new readers alike, enjoy.

_Special Thanks:_ To BluEydMnstr for the first beta, and to Lady Lark for smoothing out the rough edges the second time.

Disclaimer: Roses are red, daisies are yella, even though Dragonball belongs to Toriyama-sensei and not me, please don't sue this poor unpaid fella.

_Dedication:_ This one goes out to Burned Vamp, who introduced me to T/M fanfiction I actually enjoyed reading, let me cut loose and hijack her characters to write reviews, and eventually turned our box-banter into an online club for the DBZ bishie addicted. And she blessed me with my faithful bitch bat, which I still swing with pride.

So Burned, if I remember right, this fic was your favorite of mine to date. Thank you for being one of the most awesome people I've known, on the net or otherwise.

* * *

**Holding On **  
by Pareathe   
(originally posted: 01.18.03) 

_Don't be afraid to hold me tight; you know I won't break in two   
What we're doing here tonight sure beats what we're going through   
We've both loved and lost before; we know the sadness it can bring   
Tonight let's close the door and hold on to the nearest thing   
Let's keep holding on, so we won't fall apart   
Let's make love tonight like we never had a broken heart..._

"G'night, Mom. Happy New Year."

My fingers linger on the doorknob as I glance back over my shoulder, flashing a loving smile at the ten-year-old boy bundled up in a thick comforter across the dimly lit bedroom. "Goodnight, sweetie, and Happy New Year to you too."

I pull the door closed and make my way back down the hall, carefully synchronizing my breathing to the rhythm of my bare feet landing, one step at a time, on the cold tile floor.

"It's okay," comes a stern, yet gentle voice from the other end. "You can stop trying to be Super-Mom. It's just you and me now."

I keep my expression neutral despite the darkness. "Very funny, Gohan. Besides, who's trying? I am a super mom if I do say so myself."

"No argument here," he answers with a chuckle before taking a step forward out of the shadows, revealing the concerned expression on his handsome face. "But you're not invincible, and I know the holidays are hard on you."

"They're rough for both of us," I reply, and he bows his head slightly, silently acknowledging the truth of my words.

"You know," I say, "as much as I miss everyone, especially during this time of year, I'm thankful Trunks was too young to remember them. I know he wishes he'd known his father, but I'm glad he didn't experience losing them like we did." I close my eyes and massage my temple absently. "I'm probably being selfish, feeling that way, but -"

"I don't think so," Gohan answers. "Now quit beating yourself up. Come in here and sit down. You've been going nonstop since this morning."

I comply-God knows I'm exhausted after the day's fanfare-though I still take great care to do so as slowly as possible without looking openly defiant. I can't help but smile when Gohan smirks and leans against the wall, waiting patiently. He knows me too well.

"And you haven't?" I quip as he guides me the rest of the way to the living room sofa. "I don't know who's done more today, you or me?"

Gohan waits until I sit down on the couch before taking a seat at the other end. "You did all the cooking," he comments, though the words are slurred by a sudden, unstoppable yawn.

I raise an eyebrow, earning me that famous boyish grin. It could've been taken straight out of my memories of his father, and it takes me a minute to push away the sadness such similarities always produce. "And who kept Trunks occupied all day while I was working my magic in the kitchen, hm?" I question once my composure's restored.

"All right, you got me," Gohan concedes, stretching his long legs and letting out another, louder yawn. "I'm worn out, but it was worth it. He's a great kid."

"Yeah, he is," I agree, "but I couldn't do it without you, you know. You're the closest thing to a father he's ever had."

Gohan leans back and closes his eyes. "I already know where you're going with this," he warns.

I shrug innocently. "What? You'll be a great dad someday. That's all I'm saying."

I see his haunted expression despite the lack of light in the room. "I just try to be the kind of man my father was. I guess I learned from the best," he states after a pause.

"Yes, you did," I say. "There's only one major difference between you and Son-kun."

Gohan grins. He isn't planning to take my bait so easily. "The fact that I could fight the bad guys and still be Valedictorian?"

I laugh. "Okay, two things. You know what the other is?"

"You're gonna say it anyway."

"Of course I am. The difference is Son-kun stayed alive long enough to have a son of his own."

Gohan sighs. "C'mon, Bulma..."

I scoot over to the middle cushion and grab his hand. Doesn't he see how desperate I am? How scared it makes me to know what he's planning to do as soon as he leaves? "Don't go back out there. Please, Gohan, just stay away from those androids for a while," I plead.

He's already shaking his head, and my heart sinks another notch. "You know I can't do that," he answers.

Damn it, I'm not ready to give up yet! Not without a fight. "Why not? If you give me a little more time, I could probably rebuild the gravity chamber. Remember how much stronger Vegeta got when he used it? Just imagine what you could do if you trained like that!"

"All I remember," he cuts in softly, "is it wasn't enough." I guess my crestfallen expression makes him feel guilty for being so blunt, because he takes the arm which I was holding and wraps it around my shoulder. "Besides, you've got more important projects to work on."

But that's not true! That wild idea was just that: an idea, and nothing more, born out of desperation and grief. I'd never be able to actually build the thing; I told him as much after I made the mistake of mentioning it in the first place. Then again Gohan's always been an optimist, just like his father was.

He's never lost that quality, despite the ongoing hell we're stuck in every day, but I'll never stop being a realist. Besides, if I have to have faith in anyone, my money's on Gohan.

"Nothing can change the past, Gohan. It's a pipe dream."

Gohan holds me a little tighter, resting his chin on the top of my head while absently making small circles on my shoulder with his thumb. "Maybe," he allows after awhile, "but if we can't even dream anymore, then the androids have already won; we should just sit here and wait to die." He leans back, using his free hand to lift my chin and force me to look into his obsidian eyes, genuine anguish polluting his gaze, one which never should've grown so mature so quickly. "Are you really willing to give up like that?"

Not really, but...it's so hard to hold on to intangible things like faith and hope when the world around us is being obliterated a little more every day by Dr. Gero's hellish creations. I could probably take comfort in the knowledge that he was their first victim-what goes around, comes around after all-if they weren't still terrorizing us. Until the day they're destroyed, I won't be able to appreciate a thing like irony. My dearest friends. My parents. Those losses are just too great, the wounds too raw, for me to move on just yet. Not while those of us who are still alive fight a daily battle so we can eventually wake up from this nightmare.

There are only two things which keep me going now. My precious, hard-headed son forces me to remain strong, even in those moments when I don't want to do anything except curl up within myself and let the pain devour me. As for Gohan, he's my lifeline, pure and simple.

_Don't be afraid to close your eyes, pretend I'm someone that you love   
And I won't tell you lies, 'cause it's not you I'm thinking of   
Let's keep hanging on, so we won't fall apart   
Let's make love tonight like we never had a broken heart.   
Tonight we'll just pretend we've been in love right from the start   
Let's make love again like we never had a broken heart.   
Don't be afraid to close your eyes._

I draw in a shaky breath, and Gohan's fingers immediately begin stroking my cheek.

"You won't give up. Not yet," he whispers as he dips his head down until our lips brush lightly. "I won't let you. We need each other too much."

Yes we do.

Despite the hopeful words he uses to reassure me these days, his eyes always remind me of Vegeta's: hard, yet haunted. Gods, he's still practically a baby; he's only twenty-one. He's meant for so much more than this... He deserves the chance to have his own family rather than adopting mine. He should be in college, wowing the professors and making the girls swoon.

As his mouth presses firmly against mine, I realize I'm not capable of admitting defeat just yet, no matter how hopeless things seem.

Gohan has sacrificed everything to battle the androids. He's cut himself off from his mother, fearing they'll attack her just to draw him out. He can't let himself get close to anyone new, let alone try to have a relationship with a girl his own age, because she could be killed in an instant. So, from time to time, he comes here instead. Instead of making plans for his own family, he takes on the roles of father and brother to Trunks, and he makes love to me when he should be holding a young beauty who's crazy about him.

Until Gohan can do those things, I can't let the sorrow and emptiness beat me.

He undresses me slowly, tossing my clothes carelessly onto the floor with one hand, while his other teases my skin. Calloused fingertips slowly make their way down my throat and along my collar bone. Then they move lower, lingering over my pounding heart. He closes his eyes, as though he's opening his mind and soul so he can draw strength from the physical proof that he's not alone. I follow suit, placing the palm of my hand on his chest as well, immediately feeling the thunderous cadence through his gi.

That's right. We're still alive and we can _feel_ this, we can endure whatever lies ahead.

His hand moves away, but only so he can untie the sash around his waist as I pull the shirts over his head. By the time I've thrown them on top of my clothes, he's discarded what was left of his outfit.

As he lays me down and the moonlight filters in through the curtains, I feel my throat tighten as it always does. He's not Gohan to me now but the embodiment of every man I've ever loved. If only for a little while, Son-kun is alive again in the unconditional love in his eyes. I see Krillin's mischievous, yet awed expression on his face. I can feel Piccolo's wisdom and Tien's unwavering determination. Yamcha is here too, in the shy blush across his cheeks, and it's Vegeta's powerful arms which hold me close.

At this moment I'm with my friends-all of them-once again.

I've missed you guys so much, and I need you now more than ever.

Son-kun, give me your faith so I can believe in miracles again...

Krillin, I need your confidence as a reminder that when we're together, we can do anything...

Piccolo, share your knowledge and experience with me, and help me to see all the possibilities...

Tien, send me your courage which never falters, even if the enemy we face seems invincible...

Yamcha, lend me your ability to overcome and adapt to any situation I find myself in...

Vegeta, you gave me our son; now I need your stamina and perseverance so I can protect him...

As I make my silent plea, my arms tighten around Gohan's body. Pleasure builds and blood races through my veins, but with it comes a sense of warmth and peace which envelopes my spirit like an angelic embrace.

_This_ is tangible. _This_ is something I can hold on to. _This_ is something I can keep fighting for.

Gohan, you've been my son, my best friend, and my lover. Perhaps that's why, out of everyone who battled the androids nine years ago, you were the one who was spared. I don't think I'd have been able to do this with anyone else. You're the only one who could reunite us, and I promise you - all of you! - as long as I'm still breathing, I won't let the gifts you've given me go to waste.

Trunks will continue to be my motivation, but from this moment on, you are my hope.

Both of our bodies shudder in release at the same moment the first tear slides down my cheek. Gohan's brow furrows, but I dismiss his fears with a shake of my head and a reassuring smile.

For the first time in years, I'm not crying out of sadness or anger.

Yes, the pain's still there, and yes, it still makes me mad as hell to know those mechanical abominations are out there. But I have a weapon I can use against them now. I've been so focused on the people I lost, I couldn't see how lucky I am to have the ones who lived.

And I'd nearly forgotten that those we love never really leave us at all.

Son-kun. Vegeta. Yamcha. Everyone: thank you.

Once we catch our breath, Gohan slides against the back of the couch, and I turn and curl up against him, letting the sound of his heart lull me into a contented stupor.

"You okay?" he asks after a while.

I nod. "A lot better than I was this evening," I admit. "Thank you for staying with me," I add, giving his waist an affectionate squeeze.

He flashes a coy grin. "Where else would I go to ring in the new year?"

I suppose he has a point. Wait! The new year!

He jumps when I start clambering up on my elbows suddenly so I can see the clock. 23:59:31.

"Good, we haven't missed it." I start looking around frantically. "Damn it, we need champagne!"

"Champagne?"

"Yeah," I reply. "It's about time we start really celebrating New Year's Day, don't you think?"

If he has any questions about the source of my sudden excitement, he doesn't show it. He simply reaches over and produces a capsule, which he places in the palm of my hand.

"You really do think of everything," I praise once the bottle's been uncorked and the elegant crystal glasses filled.

He shrugs. "Actually, I've brought this with me three years in a row."

"It is?" I frown in confusion. "Why are we just opening it now?"

Another familiar, sheepish grin, and this time, he even puts a hand behind his head. "Well, we were kinda...preoccupied the last two years, so we've always missed it."

That's right. Ever since the year he turned eighteen, we've spent New Years Eve finding solace in each other's arms, neither of us really caring much when one year moved into the next.

23:59:51.

I lift my glass. "To never neglecting the New Year again," I propose, "and to the time machine I'm going to start working on."

Gohan's eyes widen a fraction. Then he nods in agreement and raises his own glass. "To hope, and to the future."

_**Owari**_

_Lyrics: Like We Never Had A Broken Heart_ by Trisha Yearwood


End file.
